


Programming and its Roots

by patster223



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: COUNTER/Weight - Freeform, COUNTER/Weight Spoilers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 18:56:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11019510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patster223/pseuds/patster223
Summary: Divines don't leave behind scars that heal, but rather residue thatlingers,no matter how short-lived their pilot's candidacy may have been. This is something that Mako is beginning to know all too well.Thankfully, Mako isn't alone in this feeling. At least AuDy is here too.





	Programming and its Roots

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for all of COUNTER/weight.

Before the September Incident—back when there _was_ a September Institute—the Institute forbid the use of the term _hacking_ ; instead, they encouraged their students to say _fogging._ You see, a hack is an active thing, something that you _do._ A fog, on the other hand…a fog is something that you get lost in. _That,_ Regent Provost Twelfth had said, _is something that you must never forget when you’re dealing with something like a Divine._

The semantic distinction had never made sense to Mako. The fog doesn’t obscure Mako’s vision, but clears it: opens his eyes to the possibilities within the mesh, to its beautiful vistas and stunning chambers that reveal the truth better than anything from reality ever could.

No, hacking and fogging are one in the same. At least, that’s what Mako thought before he fogged Order, before he wormed his way _inside of_ Rigor, before he realized that the term _hacking_ cannot possibly convey the sometimes unbearable weight of intimacy that fogging requires. _Hacking,_ after all, is something that you do _to_ a thing. Fogging requires the participation of the very system _itself_ , requires all of its actors--human and machine alike--to be present and personified.

Mako hates thinking about these kinds of semantics, but it's all he can do as he stares at the upturned saltshaker on the kitchen counter. Fuck, this is supposed to be _easy_ now. Mako is Stratus extraordinaire, agent of The Rapid Evening, champion of the September Institute. And yet here he is, hands shaking, tears welling up in his eyes over _spilled salt;_ he can’t even make lunch without fucking up, without making a mess—and Mako doesn’t normally give a shit about messes, but—

Mako’s hands move without his permission as he tries frantically to clean up the salt: to restore order.

The thing is, Mako _sucks_ at order. Despite the September Institute’s best efforts, Mako’s was always a mind that spun in bright arcs and dazzling twists, not in _lines_ or _patterns._ But here’s the other thing: Divines don't leave behind scars that heal, but rather residue that  _lingers_ , no matter how short-lived their pilot's candidacy may have been. Mako only piloted Order for ten minutes, but that was more than enough time for Order to get a grip on his mind.

Normally, Mako can manage it. He’s a Stratus, after all. But even his abilities cannot erase the fact that Order demands what Mako _does not know how to give,_ has _never_ known how to give. On his bad days, Mako cannot help but become a broken branch underneath that weight. And sometimes it's something as simple as spilling salt--as disrupting the order of a room--that triggers it.

“Mako?”

Mako whirls around, the sudden movement spilling what salt he’d managed to clean up.

AuDy stands in front of him. The shotgun has popped out of their arm and is pointing right at Mako.

“Hey, AuDy,” Mako says, wiping the salt off his hands before raising them in the air. “What’s up?”

The gun does not lower, despite Mako’s raised hands.  

“You are trespassing.”

“What? Dude, I used to work here-”

“No longer,” AuDy says. “The Kingdom Come is not your home, Mako. It is mine.”

“Can Divines be homeowners? What kind of credit score does being a celestial robot get you?” Mako wonders, half taking the shit out of AuDy and half just...wondering _._ What  _does_ home looks like for someone like AuDy, like Order…like Rigor?

AuDy tilts their head. “You are using asinine humor to avoid a subject. You are also crying. If I ask you why, will that get you to leave my ship?”

“Why are you so mad at me?” Mako says, bristling. “I didn’t do _anything_.”

“You lived, I was left behind with Rigor, and ever since then I have died over and over again,” AuDy says simply.

“Yeah, but like...now you're fine," Mako says. "And that wasn’t even my fault. What happened to you sucks, but what were we supposed to do? Pointing a _gun_ at me over something I couldn't do anything about seems kind of petty, especially for, like, a Divine or whatever.”

“You should know by now how petty some of us are. Especially Liberty.”

“I thought you weren’t Liberty anymore.”

“I’m not,” AuDy says, finally lowering their gun. “But even when they leave, Divines leave something behind. They always have.”

“Yeah,” Mako says with a sigh. “Yeah, I…that’s why I broke in here actually. I mean, it was also just to blow off steam, but mostly it was to...try to get away from that.”

AuDy’s lights shine a bit brighter as the Divine inside them assesses Mako. “Which one?”

“Order,” Mako says. Saying the name aloud is enough to send Order's twisting compulsions back to the forefront of Mako's mind. Mako runs his fingers through his hair, tugging a bit too hard just so that he can— _focus_ on this conversation and stop thinking about that _fucking salt._

“Fuck, AuDy, I don’t know how to get rid of it," Mako admits. "Real life Order isn’t even Order anymore, but I can _feel_ how much the old one wants order—and I guess now _I_ want order? But I _hate_ order, I don’t know how to do order, I—you’ve seen my laundry basket, AuDy, you know I don’t do order.”

AuDy nods. Then, they say, “Your situation is regrettable, but it is the least of our concerns. Order is manageable; Rigor is not. The latter is what we must be preparing for right now."

“Jesus Christ, AuDy!” Mako says, hands abandoning his hair to ball into fists at his sides. “Did you just tell me that Order _fucking with my head_ doesn’t matter? What’s wrong with you? Since when are you such a shitty friend? Oh wait, since always, because you’re a complete and total _asshole_.”

“As are you,” AuDy says. They have little body language through which to convey their rage, but their blank screen still shines coldly at Mako. “While I was on Mode City, I made friends with Maryland September. And, at her urging, I made friends with a great deal more people after she was gone. And you know what happened to them? They’re all dead. And if they’re not dead, they have forgotten themselves and will work themselves to death soon under Rigor. We have to _stop_ this, Mako, there isn’t time for friends or cultivating sap-”

And AuDy may not have much body language, but perhaps some signs are universal even among humans and Divines. AuDy doubles over, voice caught in a grunt that’s half-static as they are stopped in their tracks by a residue that Mako can see even outside of the mesh.

“Was that Liberty or Discovery?” Mako asks.

“Only Discovery is here,” AuDy says. They slowly stand back up, flexing their hands as they recover. “But what I said was going too far for either of them."

Mako isn’t surprised that AuDy slipped up. Even—and perhaps _especially_ —now that they are a Divine, AuDy is predictable in their outbursts, as angry and impulsive as Mako is—and without even a human brain to justify why.

"Do you guys always disagree like this?" Mako asks. "I thought you were just all one robot now."

"It was...more difficult for us to co-exist in Mode City, with Liberty being what they were. We are still readjusting to being back.”

AuDy twists their antenna absently. “You are still an asshole. But there must be time for friends, and you are a friend."

"Oh! Well that's-"

"I hate comforting friends."

"...Okay..."

"So, instead," AuDy says, "I will explain how I relate to your situation and hope that that does something.”

Mako snorts. “With a pitch like that, what could go wrong?”

“Everything will soon go wrong,” AuDy says. “But I will explain anyway. I am a Divine, Mako. At the same time, I am an Automated Dynamics robot. As AuDy, I have thoughts that were programmed into me, and as Discovery, I have directives that I do not always wish to follow—and yet, everything that I am is made up of my programming and my directives. As a result, I do not know where I start and where these directives begin. Sometimes I do not know if I start anywhere at all.”

Mako squirms. The terms AuDy uses may be those of robotics, but they betray the same anxieties that Mako has. Did Mako fog Order because he wanted to, or because that is the task for which September designed him? Did he first run away from September because that was _he_ wanted to do, or was that desire programmed into him by the same people who created his clones? Does Mako’s mind spasm now because that’s what it was _always_ destined to do, or is it because Order and Rigor have left it cracked and scattered and _lost_ across Counterweight’s endless sands?

“You know what?” Mako says, running a hand down his face. “Thanks so much, AuDy; that was so helpful, way to cultivate those whatevers, but I think I’m gonna-”

“Let me finish before you are sarcastic,” AuDy says.

"I'm never sarcas-"

“Mako. Listen to me," AuDy implores. "I may not know know where I start, but I do know that most days, I am AuDy; I pilot the Kingdom Come and I try to help people, but mostly I hurt people. I am also Discovery, and that is a far simpler directive.”

“And what about Liberty?” Mako asks. "You used to be them too."

“I did. But sometimes the things we are reject us. Order rejects you, even as some remnant of it and Rigor live inside of you."

"Rigor?" Mako says, trying to feel shocked, but...no, that's not really news, is it? Just as some nights, Mako feels the compulsions and obsessions of Order, some nights he feels the sticky black strands of Rigor clawing at his mind. They’re just easier to ignore—easier to channel into new projects and long nights working for the Evening.

“Just as your Divines reject and yet shape you," AuDy says, "Liberty used to be me, before they abandoned us. But despite these things, you are still a strange human named Mako and I am still AuDy, and I am still Discovery. These things do not disappear on the days when our directives try to reject or erase or destroy us. That is what sentience is.”

 “Yeah, well,” Mako mutters, “sentience sucks.”

If AuDy had eyes, they would be glaring daggers into Mako right now. As it is, AuDy’s impassive screen only reflects Mako’s image back at him.

“Those are the words,” AuDy says, “of someone who has never had to go without it.”

AuDy stands. They hold out a hand for Mako to grab. “Are you sufficiently comforted?”

Mako laughs and the action actually clears up some of the fog.

“You suck at comforting people,” Mako says. “But yeah, I’m okay.”

Mako lets AuDy pull him to his feet. The cool metal of their hand is a comfort against Mako’s warm, clammy palms—and hey, AuDy probably can’t even feel how clammy they are, so Mako doesn't have to feel embarrassed about sweating all over a Divine.

“Are you going to stay or go?” AuDy asks.

Mako is actually touched that AuDy makes it a question and not a demand for him to leave. Nonetheless, even thinking about the question causes Mako's hands to tremble in AuDy’s. He may not be crying anymore, but just behind him is the spilled saltshaker…it’s still _there._ Mako can _feel_ the grains of salt digging into his palms like rough sand.

“Uh,” Mako says, clearing his throat. “I’ll get out of your hair soon. But can you…help me clean up this mess first? You were always better than cleaning than I was…Wait, is it stereotyping robots to say that you're better at cleaning than I am? Even though you _are._ But I guess it's probably more offensive that I'm asking a Divine to help me clean the kitchen."

“These things are both offensive,” AuDy says. “But I am better at cleaning, and I will help you.”

Together, they scrub the kitchen counter spotless, taking turns working so that Mako doesn’t become overwhelmed by the task. And, against all odds, AuDy doesn’t immediately ask Mako to leave afterward.

Instead, they turn to Mako and ask, “Would you like to look at some vegetables?”

Mako blinks. It’s hard to say whether AuDy means that they should check on the supply of vegetables or whether AuDy literally wants to _look at some vegetables._ AuDy is weird like that, and is also two robots. But hell, Mako is weird too, and has the remnants of two robots in him. They’ve got enough common ground from which to work with here.

Plus, Mako _really_ wants to know what this activity entails. Of course he says yes.

AuDy retreats to another room and brings back a few boxes of earth filled with potato and carrot seedlings. They set them on the kitchen countertop and then…nothing. AuDy just…stares at some vegetables.

“Sooo,” Mako says. “Why do you have these? You don’t even eat.”

“I've picked up gardening. Or, I have always been gardening and for a while I stopped. It is difficult to say.” AuDy points to one of the sprouts. “You may pick this one.”

Mako does, carefully following AuDy’s instructions on how to pick and wash and study the plant. It’s not Mako’s usual thing, but it quiets the great, tar-like strings that Order and Rigor have left in Mako's mind and that they so dearly love to pluck. Gardening, it turns out, is one of those things that tricks Divines: tricks Rigor into thinking that productivity is taking place, tricks Order into thinking that things are being put into sequence, tricks Liberty and Discovery into protecting their saplings.

Mako, as much as he loves trickery, doesn’t really think about it in these terms. He was trained by the September Institute, after all. For him, this is simply a way to ground himself within the fog: to touch things like cool metal, grains of salt, and smooth potatoes, the push and pull of their reality placing Mako out of the grasp of his directives and into the orbit of something far more tangible.

 


End file.
